


Run Deep

by queenmevesknickers



Series: A Night of Respite [2]
Category: Thronebreaker: The Witcher Tales (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M, Gascon continues to be a loveable nuisance, Meve is impatient, Reynard knows exactly what he's doing, Romance, Sex, Thronebreaker: The Witcher Tales, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:42:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26382088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenmevesknickers/pseuds/queenmevesknickers
Summary: Meve and Reynard have agreed on one night of happiness together - and they intend to make the most of it. Because, sometimes, when there's a war going on and you're in the middle of monster-infested swamps, you need to remind yourself what you're fighting for in the first place.A sequel toStill Waters.
Relationships: Meve (The Witcher)/Reynard Odo
Series: A Night of Respite [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917286
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Run Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Please note this story is *much* steamier than its predecessor

The sounds of the celebration could still be heard faintly through the trees in the Lyrian camp; the revellers had looked as though they would be carrying on through the night. Meve rather suspected her absence would have the effect of buoying rather than dampening the festivities. Indeed, despite the token protests voiced when she had made her excuses, she doubted she would be very sorely missed. Gascon might normally have attempted to cajole her into staying, so he might keep trying to coax in her into the dancing with him, but he had merely smirked when Reynard offered to escort her back to the camp, and said nothing.

Meve paced, unable to sit still; she was waiting for Reynard to return from his tent. She’d removed her cloak, along with her boots and weapons, and found herself shivering slightly, though the night was mild still. Her head spun a little at the thought of all that had taken place in just a few short hours. To learn that Reynard, her oldest and closest friend, had been quietly in love with her all this time; and then to discover, much to her surprise, that she had grown to love him too, without even realising it. It seemed almost too much, to find that they cared for each other so deeply, and then to act on it so soon. But if there was anything she had learnt from all that had happened in the last few months, it was that every moment of joy must be seized – for they were far too few and far between to do otherwise.

Reynard returned to her soon enough, quickly and silently ducking through the canvas flaps. He had taken the opportunity to remove his armour, and Meve realised she was quite unused to seeing him without it after so many months on the campaign. She now saw that the bulky plate concealed a rather pleasing form, and wondered how it had escaped her notice for so many years – like so much else had, apparently.

Reynard was in a more sombre mood than when she had seen him last. “I greatly dislike th’ feeling of sneaking about our own camp,” he said with a slight grimace. “Though perhaps it was well I did – I fear I found our sentries far too easy to evade.”

Meve had to laugh. “Reynard, I think given it is you who organises both th’ watches and th’ patrols, you may have a slight advantage over anyone else in avoiding them.”

“I suppose,” he admitted grudgingly. “But still, I intend to fully review th’ current arrangements – I feel there is much that can be done to improve them.”

“Ready I am as always to hear your thoughts on any subject, Reynard, but I had hoped we might engage ourselves in something more agreeable than our security arrangements tonight.” Her bold words belied the nervousness she felt in uttering them, and she was glad the dim light in the tent would go some way to concealing the flush that they brought to her cheeks.

She could see that she was not alone in feeling a little shy about this new level of intimacy between them, as his face went a little pink too, and he swallowed hard. Still, he smiled and said, “I think the matter may rest until tomorrow, Your Grace.”

“Please,” she said softly, stepping closer and taking his hands in hers. “Call me Meve again.”

“Meve,” he murmured reverently, before bringing his lips to hers, and a sweeter sound she had never heard.

Soon they had their arms about each other again, and Meve began to feel a little light-headed at the sensation of her body pressing against his. A little of her nervousness began to fade at the simple rightness of it, to be holding each other like this. She couldn’t help but let a small sigh escape her when one of his hands travelled up her back, to work his fingers gently into her hair. And then a gasp, when his mouth left hers, and he began to place kisses behind her ear.

“Reynard,” she said, when she managed to catch her breath.

“Mmm?” He paused.

“I don’t wish to stop, and I haven’t changed my mind.” If she had felt flushed before, there was nothing compared to the heat she felt in her face now. “But I feel I have to say…well. It’s been a long time – a _very_ long time – since I…ugh, you know.”

She heard him chuckle at that. “Well, that makes two of us,” he said, pulling back enough to kiss her on the mouth again. He looked into her eyes for a long moment. “I love you, Meve,” he said simply.

To hear him say it again prompted such a strength of feeling in Meve she felt the need to kiss him very deeply before she could reply. “I love you, too.” His delighted smile filled her heart with joy. When had she last seen Reynard smile so readily? Not for some time, she knew.

“Then I think we will manage, somehow.” Gently, he pushed her hair back from her face, with such a light touch that she almost shivered again.

Feeling reassured, she took his hand and led him over to her low camp bed. “Shall we make ourselves comfortable, then?”

She lay back against the pillow, her heart racing as Reynard unbuckled his sword belt and kicked off his boots before joining her. He lay down beside her, leaning on one elbow, and resumed his attentions to her. He rained kisses down on her; her lips, her cheeks, her temple, then behind her ear again, and continuing in a languid trail down her neck. His free hand caressed her – stroking her hair, her cheek, her neck, trailing his fingers down her arm, her stomach, and lightly skimming down her thigh. She shut her eyes, giving herself over to the sensations; not since her last hot bath had she known bliss like this – and even then, that had been in a dwarf-sized tub back in Mahakam.

It was somewhere between the kisses on her collarbones, and the feeling of his teeth gently grazing her ear, that she felt the floodgates of her desire begin to open. There was a hunger, one that she had held back and ignored for many years, that now threatened to consume her entirely. Suddenly, far from feeling timid, she wanted much, much more. She sought his mouth now and began to kiss him fiercely, hungrily. Her hands ran down the hard muscle of his back, and, more boldly, grabbed his firm and rather shapely backside. Reynard responded with enthusiasm, returning her kisses and caresses with equal intensity. The want within her continued to grow until, impatient, she began to tug at his breeches; she was a little thrilled at the slight groan he gave when her hand brushed against him. But when he caught her hand and stilled it, she felt a flash of fear that he had been put off by her forwardness.

His expression when she looked at him, however, was one of amusement. “Meve,” he said gently, “we have all night, do we not? Why hurry things?” He lowered his lips to her ear. “I would like to make th’ most of our time together. There are many things I would like to do – for a start, I should very much like to kiss you all over - absolutely everywhere,” he said in a low tone.

Meve had to admit, he had a point. “All right,” she said, a little reluctantly. “But you had best make good on that promise,” she warned. He laughed at that.

Meve let Reynard take the lead, for she sensed he had something specific in mind. Slowly, they shed their clothes; the look in his eyes when she loosed her hair from its braid made her catch her breath, it was so full of desire. Greedily, he ran his hands through it, playfully tugging it, then drawing his fingertips over her scalp in a way that made her skin tingle. Then he began to kiss and caress her once more. The feeling of his hands on her bare skin was so lovely she could hardly bear it. They were calloused hands, soldier’s hands, but the gentleness of his touch served to make their roughness pleasing. For a while, he seemed reluctant to move his hand from her waist, until she placed it on her breast instead. This was a direction it seemed he was more than willing to take, for soon he moved his mouth there also. She had to bite the inside of her cheek as he continued to tease her with kisses, for the strength of her desire was becoming almost unbearable now.

“I hope you do not mean to keep me waiting too much longer,” she said, biting back a moan as he nipped at her sensitive skin again. “I would never have thought you could be so cruel.”

“I assure you, cruelty is not my intention at all,” he replied, grinning slyly. “But there is _one_ more thing I should like to try before granting your wish. May I?”

She groaned. “Very well.”

He moved to kneel between her legs, before beginning a fresh trail of kisses, starting at her throat, working his way down her chest and belly. Then he began again at her knee, kissing his way down her thigh. Every touch, the tickle of his hair against her bare leg, intensified her longing, but when his mouth reached its target, she gasped out loud. She had heard of such an act before, and had, more than once, wondered what it would feel like. Well, now she knew, and never could she have imagined such intense pleasure. He had started a little hesitantly, seemingly to gauge if she liked what he was about, but once she had threaded her fingers through his hair and urged him to continue, he did not hold back. She lost all ability to form coherent thought; time seemed almost halt as she lost herself in the sensation. The heat pooled slowly, deep in her belly, as her pleasure climbed higher and higher. It was only at the last second that she thought to clap both hands over her mouth to muffle her cries. She collapsed back against the pillow, panting. She glanced down to see Reynard looking up at her, such a pleased look on his face she might have laughed if she could do anything more than gasp for breath. With his tousled hair and flushed face, he looked almost boyish, and so adorable her heart melted.

“I see now what you meant,” she finally managed, “about kissing me _everywhere_.”

He wiped his mouth and came back to lie beside her. “Did you like it?” he asked, though he surely knew the answer already from how she had reacted.

Meve shook her head in wonder. “I’ve never felt th’ like,” she said, still a little breathless. “I believe I shall sleep rather well tonight. But – I think there’s an important matter I must attend to first.” She reached for his breeches again, and this time he made no protest.

She pulled him close and began to kiss him again, enjoying the feeling of their bodies pressed together from head to toe again now that they were both fully unclothed. She felt a little shy, when she first put her hands on him, but his response to her gentle touch was enough to make her grow bolder, and soon she had him in the same desperate state he had brought her to before. Seeing him so aroused was enough to stoke her own ardour again, and she pulled him atop her.

“Are you sure, Meve?” he asked quietly; he was the one breathing hard now. “This would – ah – this would be enough, for me. We needn’t –”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “I want you, Reynard. Please?” It seemed he was not inclined to make any further protestations, for finally, their two bodies came together.

If Meve had expected Reynard’s patience to run out at this point, now that his own end was in sight, she would have been mistaken. He moved slowly, stopping often to kiss her at length, or to subtly change his position. One of these slight manoeuvres made her inhale sharply.

Reynard looked to her instantly. “Is all well, Meve?” he said, sounding a little worried.

“Yes, no,” she said, hardly able to string the words together. “That was – that was good.”

He moved once more, and she gasped again. “Like that?”

“Oh! Yes, like _that_.”

It seemed Reynard had found what he was looking for, as he now stayed in the same position, continuing slowly at first but beginning to increase his pace. Meve moved with him, feeling that same heat building within her once more. This time she pressed her lips firmly to his shoulder and dug her nails into his back to keep herself from crying out. Reynard followed her shortly after, burying his face in the pillow beside her to stifle his groans. It was then that she realised his characteristic self-discipline had held out until the end, and he had withdrawn at the last moment to finish on her belly instead.

“Oh, Meve,” he sighed, and gently covered her face in kisses again. His eyes were filled with more love and adoration than she would have thought possible. Overwhelmed, Meve was lost for words. It was all she could do to lie there, stroking his hair, marvelling at the wonder of it all.

Slowly, and with great reluctance, he rolled off her and sat up. He reached for his shirt and handed it to her. “I’m sorry about, uh, th’ mess,” he said, a little awkwardly, as she wiped herself clean.

“No need to apologise,” she replied, handing the shirt back to him so he might do the same. “In truth, I am very grateful you thought of it, for I certainly had not. In fact, I gave very little thought to the possible consequences.” She blushed, embarrassed at her thoughtlessness.

He lay back down beside her and kissed her shoulder. “It is nothing. I would always hope to ease your burdens, rather than add to them.” He stretched and yawned. “Gods, I can hardly keep my eyes open now. You are not the only one who will sleep well tonight.”

Feeling her eyelids growing decidedly heavier, Meve forced herself to stand and go about putting out the candles. When she climbed back into the bed, Reynard wrapped an arm snugly around her.

“I ought to go back to my own tent,” he mumbled sleepily, though he made no move to get up. It was not long before both were dead to the world, sleeping more deeply than either had in many months.

It seemed but a moment later that Meve was blinking her eyes open to soft dawn light. She wondered what had woken her, and why her bed was so much warmer and cosier than usual. With a start, she realised there was an arm draped heavily over her. Turning her head gently, she saw Reynard still sound asleep beside her, and remembered the events of the previous night. In the light of day, it seemed impossible that they could have found such happiness in such times, and in such a place as this. But as unlikely as it seemed, they had, and she regretted none of it.

Before she could ponder the unexpected bounty that had fallen into her lap any further, she discovered what it was that had woken her when she heard a loud whisper from outside her tent.

“ _Meve? Meve! Reynard!”_

She had barely opened her mouth to reply before Gascon, stumbling slightly, appeared in the tent.

“Oh! Good morning, Meve,” he said, seeing her awake. He was slurring his words slightly.

“Gascon!” she hissed, drawing the blanket up to her chin. “Bloody hell, what are you –”

“Oop, sorry,” he said, covering his eyes and turning around.

This was enough to rouse Reynard, it seemed, who was blearily reaching for his sword. “Gascon,” he began grumpily, before he spotted Meve beside him. “Me- Your Grace!” he said, looking a little bewildered and blushing furiously.

Gascon snorted with laughter.

“Gascon,” Meve snapped. “I assume you have a _very_ good reason for barging in here like this?”

“I certainly do,” he replied with an injured air, turning around. “Ooh – sorry again.” He covered his eyes once more. “Jus’ thought you two lovebirds might appreciate th’ warning – the revels’ve finally died down, and the men are staggerin’ back towards th’ camp as we speak.”

“You seem to be staggering more than a little yourself,” Reynard said testily, some of his self-possession recovered.

“Well, ‘twere a damn fine party – shame you both missed it. Though looks to me like you two had plen’y o’ fun anyway,” Gascon retorted, peeking through his fingers to see both queen and general glaring at him. “Fine, fine, I know when I’m not welcome. Just thought you might like th’ opportunity to make a discreet exit, dear Reynard, before all your lads come weaving their way back through th’ camp. You can thank me later.” He swaggered back out of the tent, only a little off-balance.

“I suppose we should thank him,” said Meve, hiding a smile. “For I can’t imagine without his impertinent ways you would be here in my bed now. And it was good of him to come and warn us.”

“I’m more astonished that he managed to think of it, legless as he is,” Reynard replied, a little more grudgingly. “Though gods know I should have ceased to be amazed long ago when it comes to Gascon and th’ consumption of ale.” He looked at Meve again and his expression softened. “But you’re right. I can’t believe that…last night, it truly happened. I thought I must have dreamt it all. Truly, I’m certain I am still to wake and find it _was_ a dream.”

Meve kissed him. “Not a dream. And right glad I am that it wasn’t.”

Smiling now, he kissed her back. “It was the best night of my life. Though there was a point where I thought it might be one of th’ worst,” he said, ruefully.

It seemed like an age ago to Meve that she had caught Reynard and Gascon fighting in the woods. How shocked she would have been then to know how things would come to pass. “We shall live to see many even better, I hope.”

“I hope so too,” he replied, then groaned. “But for now, I think I must heed Gascon’s warning.”

He got up and began to dress quickly. Meve lingered in bed for a moment, enjoying the view, before dragging herself out from under the warm covers to find her own clothing. Both dressed and ready, Reynard turned to go, then hesitated.

“Meve,” he said quietly. “Know that I don’t regret a moment of what has passed between us, and that I meant every word – I will love you until my dying breath. And to know you love me, too, has made me happier than I ever could have imagined. But – for now, at least – I think it would be best…”

“If we carried on as before, as though none of this had happened,” Meve finished, and Reynard nodded. She saw the sense in it, knew already how these feelings might alter her judgement, and threaten all they had worked for. But now that she had known the comfort of Reynard’s arms, it would be very difficult to give up.

“Not forever, I hope,” he said, taking her hands. “But there is too much at stake – so much we must still accomplish…”

“I understand, Reynard. ‘Tis the wise thing to do – though I would give anything to have th’ luxury of foolishness right now.” She clenched her jaw as she felt her heart ache and her eyes sting.

Reynard, sensing her sadness, pulled her in for one last, long kiss. Who knew when the next one might be? “I promise, Meve,” he said passionately. “If by some miracle, we both make it out of this alive – we will have the rest of our lives to share, if you wish it.”

“I do wish it, with all my heart,” she smiled, blinking hard to fend off the tears. “That is a promise I shall hold you to, Reynard Odo.”

He kissed her hand, and turned away; Meve thought she glimpsed tears in his eyes too. And with that, he left, and the spell of their night of respite was broken.

Meve paced her tent, composing herself. She cursed the world in which they found themselves, that turned something which ought to have been joyous into something so bittersweet. But she held the knowledge of Reynard’s love close to her heart, as precious to her as an exquisite gem. To know she was beloved would have to be enough for now; she would have to fight for the life they might have together as fiercely as she fought for her country, crown and people. Her resolve hardened once more. She was Meve, by the gods’ grace Queen of Lyria and Rivia; she would drive back the Blackclads, she would free her kingdoms, she would reclaim her crown – and she would make damned sure that she and the man she loved would live to fulfil their promises to each other. Hand on sword, she stepped out into the sunlight – ready to take on the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Reynard's thought process: if you're going to f*** your queen, then by the gods, do it properly.
> 
> So glad to have finished this one! Back to my chaptered, post-game fic now - hopefully will be ready to start posting soon!


End file.
